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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27473053">I Love a Parade</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy1978/pseuds/Missy1978'>Missy1978</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire &amp; Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Arya is team Sandor, F/M, Fluff, Parade, Sandor lives in the north</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:14:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,167</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27473053</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy1978/pseuds/Missy1978</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sandor is in charge of coordinating this years First Men's parade, and needs to assign volunteers to escort balloons during the parade. Sansa is looking for a fun family bonding activity.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>79</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I Love a Parade</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm not a big parade person, but when I realized there wouldn't be any parades this holiday season, suddenly I miss parades. Go figure.</p>
<p>Also, as an aside, do you know that there are very few wolf balloons in parades?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>6 weeks before the parade</b>
</p>
<p>“Sansa this isn’t the stupidest idea you’ve ever had, but it’s close” Arya squawked into the phone. </p>
<p>Sansa smirked, she had her “Oh c’mon Arya, it’ll be fun, and besides I’ve had much worse ideas: moving to King's Landing, dating Joffrey, bleaching my hair, thank the gods <em> that </em> was only temporary; this is nothing. This will be great. You know, family bonding and all that?” </p>
<p>“Why can’t we just go to a bar and get drunk like other families?” </p>
<p>“Well we can do that too, after. I’ll even pay for the first round. How does that sound?” </p>
<p>“Expensive. If the boys agree to do this, their going to order top shelf, so bring your wallet” </p>
<p>“That’s why I need your help, if you’re on board I have a better chance of talking them into this. What do you say?” </p>
<p>“Alright, but you owe me, big time, and I will collect” Arya grumbled, then disconnected the call. </p>
<p>Sansa squealed and hugged herself, this was going to be great! A new family tradition. Hopefully between Arya and herself, all their brothers would agree to do this. Maybe she’d knit matching hats for everyone, that would be perfect! She squealed again and started drafting a group text to her siblings. </p>
<p>
  <b>Sansa: is everyone still planning to stay through Sunday on First Men's Day weekend? </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Jon: Ygritte and I are getting there Tuesday and staying through Monday. Better airline rates that way </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Arya: well since I live here, yea. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Bran: Jojen and I are still trying to figure out how long we can stay, but definitely through Sunday </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Rickon: Dad said he’d drive me back to school Monday morning </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Robb: why are you asking? </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sansa: Well I was reading the online Wintertown Gazette, and they’re looking for volunteers to escort the big balloons during the parade Saturday afternoon. I thought it would be fun if we all did that together, as a family. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Robb: Ugh </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Jon: absolutely not </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Bran: It could be fun, Jojen and I would be up for it </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Arya: Gendry and I are in! </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Robb: what? </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Jon: Arya, are you fucking kidding me? </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Rickon: who are you and what have you done with my sister Arya? </b>
</p>
<p>Sansa watched the texts scroll. She knew once Arya had agreed to participate, it was only a matter of time before the rest of the family fell in line. She had that effect on the family, if she sanctioned something, everybody agreed. </p>
<p>
  <b>Arya: It’ll be fun, we can wrestle the balloon down the street, drop it off, then get plastered at the Pub the rest of the afternoon. Since this is Sansa’s harebrained scheme, she buys the first round. Sound like a plan? </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Jon: now that you put it that way </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Bran: Sansa you don’t have to bribe me with liquor, I’m in either way. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sansa: thanks Bran, as for the rest of you alkys, yes, I’ll buy the first round. Before you all change your minds, I’m going to email and volunteer us. Maybe they have a wolf balloon. Wouldn’t that be great? </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Arya: ugh! Don’t make me regret this. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sansa: too late, later! </b>
</p>
<p>Sansa immediately went back onto the Wintertown gazette webpage and got the contact information for the city department. She was going to email them immediately; she didn’t want to run the risk that there were too many volunteers and they didn’t need her family. Scrolling through the article she looked for contact information, there it was: sclegane@wintertowncitygov.com she copied it into her email and tapped out a message. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> To: sclegane@wintertowncitygov.com  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> From: sansaloveslemoncakes@direwolf.com  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Subject: balloons  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Hello, I read in the Wintertown Gazette that you are looking for volunteers to escort balloons during the annual parade. My family and I would love to participate. I do have a couple of questions:  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> How many do you need for a balloon? I can guarantee 8, but maybe more if needed  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Is there a rehearsal, or do we just show up Saturday morning?  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Is there a wolf balloon, if so, can we have that one (it’s on our family coat-of-arms)?  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> How soon would we know if we were selected?  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Looking forward to hearing from you!  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>***** </p>
<p>On Monday morning Sandor Clegane booted up his office computer for the day and let out a huge sigh, 350 unread messages, ugh! What could possibly have happened over the weekend to merit so many emails? Oh, that’s right, the article in the paper looking for volunteers for the balloons; for fuck sake. He knew when Bronn had suggested the idea, it was a bad one. Now every crackpot would want to be in the parade. </p>
<p>Sandor just shook his head and grumbled to himself. What a fucking nightmare this was going to be! Rationally he knew that it was just his turn to coordinate the parade (everybody in his department were required to organize the parade at least once), but hopefully this would be easier in the coming years than it was right now!</p>
<p>Scrolling through the emails, he noticed a familiar name: direwolf.com, Sandor was pretty sure that Arya Stark’s email address was the same. He pulled out his phone and tapped out a message to her </p>
<p>
  <b>Hound: yo Wolfbitch, who’s sansaloveslemoncakes?  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>WB: that’s my sister Sansa, why do you ask? </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Hound: I got an email from her volunteering her and her family for balloon duty. Did you know this? </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>WB: yea, she talked to me about this last weekend. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Hound: she asks a lot of questions, are all of you really willing to do this? Because if you are, I’ll make sure you get picked. I got over 300 emails over the weekend with volunteers, so if you don’t want to, I can tell her there’s no balloons left </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>WB: As much as I want to tell you to tell her no, I just can’t. She’s really excited about this, and I wouldn’t want her to be disappointed. She’s going through a tough time right now </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Hound: okay, you’re in. She wants to know if there’s a wolf balloon. There is; you okay with that? </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>WB: oh for fuck sake. Yea, I guess so; we might as well go all out. Thanks Sandor. I’ll make sure to introduce you to her when she gets home. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Hound: why? So she can be traumatized? </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>WB: ha ha. She’s seen worse than you. She lives in Kings Landing and used to date Joffrey Baratheon; you’re a prince charming in comparison.  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Hound: I’ll email her back, let her know. You owe me! </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>WB: actually, Sansa does; she’s buying the first round after the parade, you should join us. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Hound: maybe I will! </b>
</p>
<p>Sandor spent the rest of the morning slogging through emails. There had been only 10 balloons that needed escorts, so he was going to spend a lot of time responding with a ‘thanks, but no thanks.’ He thought more about Sansa Stark, and how Arya had said she was going through a rough time. If she had dated Joffrey fucking Baratheon, he could believe it! What a fucking cunt! One of the reasons Sandor had come north was to get away from the politics of King's Landing. Even as a low-level city employee, he had seen how the Baratheon’s and the Lannister’s had used their influence to make things happen and to get their own way. The city was a cesspool, he had jumped at the chance to get out. He wondered how Sansa stood it there, especially in comparison to Wintertown and the north.  </p>
<p>By the end of the day, he’d responded to the majority of emails, but had saved Sansa’s (for some reason). He wasn't even sure why he cared, he didn't even know Sansa Stark! Shaking his head in bewilderment, he clicked on his email icon and got started. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> To: sansaloveslemoncakes@direwolf.com  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> From: sclegane@wintertowncitygov.com  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Subject: you’re in!  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> I am happy to let you know that your application to escort a balloon during the annual parade has been accepted. I will forward you information as we get closer to the date as to where and when to report.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> There is no rehearsal, just a pre-parade training session. You’ll be pleased to hear that there is a wolf balloon, and I have assigned it to you and your family. However, since it is one of the larger balloons in the parade, you will need a minimum of 12 handlers, are you able to enlist more volunteers from your family? If not, I can put you in touch with other people who were not selected, I’m sure they would be happy to join you. Just let me know.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> On another note; I am friends with Arya and Gendry (we’re in a competitive dart league together at the Pub) so I look forward to meeting you when you come home for the holiday.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Sandor Clegane  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***** </p>
<p>Sansa re-read the email from Sandor Clegane. She was ecstatic that the Starks would be marching in the parade with the wolf balloon, but she was concerned about Mr. Clegane’s statement that he was friends with Arya. Arya wouldn’t tell him about how crappy her life in King's Landing was, would she? He wasn’t just feeling sorry for her, was he? It was embarrassing enough that her entire family knew, hopefully word hadn’t spread through the entire North! She’d never live it down.   </p>
<p>
  <b>Sans: we got picked, we're marching in the parade!</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Arya: great, can't wait</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sans: the man who emailed me said he knew you; Sandor Clegane?</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Arya: yea, he's a mate of Gendry and mine, he can be a dick but he's mostly okay</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sans: he doesn't know about me, does he?</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Arya: know what?</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sans: you know, about what happened down here?</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Arya: Sans, I don't spend my day telling my friends that you don't like your job and had a bad breakup, we have other things to talk about.</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sans: oh, okay. I just wanted to make sure he wasn't just feeling sorry for me.</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Arya: not everything is about you Sans. Get over yourself.</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sans: I know, I know. I have to stop assuming everyone thinks I'm a loser.</b>
</p>
<p>Sansa's cell phone vibrated, and the screen showed an incoming call from Arya.</p>
<p>"Arya, what do you want?"</p>
<p>"To talk some sense into you. Listen, I know things haven't gone the way you thought they would down there. So you trusted the wrong person, big deal, you're young, you didn't know any better, but now you do. All you need to do is finish out your internship and move home. You have less than three months left, you can do it!"</p>
<p>Sansa sighed "you're right, of course, I'm just feeling sorry for myself, again. I'm overthinking again, aren't I?"</p>
<p>Arya butt in “well, anyone could have made the same mistake. To be offered a paid internship with Cersei Lannister-Baratheon? A position, in your field, with her? How were you to know she was a fucking lunatic? Same thing with Joffrey. Handsome, rich, connected; how could you know he was a sadistic bastard? They both have the veneer of sane, beautiful people. It’s not until you’re around them all the time that you see what’s going on. </p>
<p>Sansa laughed “you’re right! Well at least I perfected my martini recipe” </p>
<p>“what do you mean?” </p>
<p>“Well I had to keep Cersei supplied with coffee until noon, and martinis, not too dry, from noon until she leaves the office. Which is usually about 4:00 because she’s so bombed. Of course now that I’m out of favor because I broke up with Joffrey, I just sit at a desk outside her office being her gatekeeper. I’m not learning anything” </p>
<p>“It’ll still look good on your resume, and anyway, Starks aren't quitters! Besides, if you look at it, the rest of your time down there should be easy. You’re coming home for First Men's, then you have 3 weeks off at Sevenmas then it’s really just another six weeks. You can do that, no problem.” </p>
<p>“well when you put it that way, you’re right!  Okay well, we got picked! I'm excited, now all I have to do is come up with enough people, do you think Theon would want to? I'm definitely going to make us matching hats, it's not like I have a social life, so I'll have lots of time to get them done."</p>
<p>"Hats? What the fuck are you talking about?"</p>
<p>"Wouldn't it be fun if we all had wolf hats? I gotta go, I have to get to the yarn store before it closes. Loveyoubye"</p>
<p>Arya stared at her phone; Hats? What the fuck?"</p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>
  <b>4 weeks before the parade</b>
</p>
<p>After a hard-fought match, Gendry and Arya had defeated Sandor and Bronn at darts that week, which meant that Sandor was buying the drinks. After placing the order at the bar, he wandered back over to their ‘regular’ table and sat down. </p>
<p>“so what do you hear from your sister these days?" </p>
<p>“Oh, she’s still very excited about the parade, she’s even knitting us hats” Arya rolled her eyes at the last portion of her statement </p>
<p>“She’s knitting hats for 12 people? She’s got a lot of time on her hands, doesn’t she?” </p>
<p>“well, yea, she does. She’s really unhappy down there, so she doesn’t go out a lot. Don’t tell her I told you that. She’s already concerned that we know each other and I may tell you something that I shouldn’t” </p>
<p>“why would she care if I knew anything about her? It’s not as if I know her.” Sandor asked with a frown. </p>
<p>Gendry butt in “that’s just the way she is, concerned about what everybody thinks about her. She was always expected to be perfect, and if she’s not, she gets herself in a state” </p>
<p>“She sounds like a piece of work” Bronn quipped </p>
<p>“Hey that’s my sister you’re talking about, how would you like a dart to the forehead? She’s had a rough year, be nice.” Arya challenged </p>
<p>Bronn raised his hands in mock surrender, and the four settled into an uncomfortable silence. The waitress arrived at their table with their drinks and passed them out, and they immediately began sipping their beers to cover the lack of conversation. After the outburst, no one was quite sure what to say to get back on an even keel, so Sandor decided to plow ahead. </p>
<p>“did she get the extra people she needed for the balloon?’ </p>
<p>“She’s up to 11; Dad, Uncle Benjen, Jon and Ygritte, Me and Gendry, Bran and Jojen, Robb, Rickon, and her. I think she’s going to ask Theon Greyjoy if he wants to, but he’s such a flake, I wouldn’t trust him to show up. Hey what about you Hound? Want to march with the Stark’s? You’re Sansa’s hero right now, so I know she’d be up for it.” </p>
<p>Sandor looked at Arya askance “Let me get this straight: get up early on a Saturday morning, stand around in the cold, march up the street in the cold, wrestling an oversized wolf balloon. Hmmm, let me think…no” Sandor smirked. </p>
<p>“Okay, but you’re missing your chance. Sansa keeps talking about how nice you are, what a sweet thing you did to make sure we had the wolf balloon, I’m sure she’d even make you a hat. That is if she has enough wool for your big head” Arya concluded with a snort. </p>
<p>Bronn cackled “Yea dog, this may be your best offer in years, I wouldn’t reject it immediately. Besides what else do you have to do on a Saturday morning? Sleep? You can sleep when you’re dead” </p>
<p>Sandor turned to Bronn “I don’t see you volunteering” </p>
<p>“I’m not Sansa’s hero, you are” Bronn quipped </p>
<p>Sandor grumbled “yea, until she sees me” </p>
<p>Arya, who had heard these comments from Sandor before, had had enough “Oh for fuck sake, stop feeling sorry for yourself. So you have some scars, big deal. Lots of people have scars, most of them have them on the inside, and they’re even uglier. If people judge you because of them, that’s their problem, not yours. And believe me, if Sansa judges you because of them I’d have a big problem with her! Even if she is my only sister.” </p>
<p>Sandor, Bronn and Gendry stared at Arya during her outburst. They’d never seen her so impassioned about anything. Nor had they seen her defend Sandor before. Sandor wasn’t sure what to think or how to react. Or even what to say. </p>
<p>“Uh, thanks?” </p>
<p>Arya waved him off, gulped the rest of her beer down and started gathering up her things “c’mon Gendry, we need to get out of here. Things to do, people to see. You know, all that. We’ll see you losers next week for another stomping.” With that she grabbed her coat and Gendry by the arm and exited the bar. </p>
<p>“hmm, I didn’t know Arya was such a big fan of yours” </p>
<p>“neither did I, that was fucking weird” </p>
<p>“well, actually I bet it’s nice to know she has your back. Maybe you should think about marching with them. If nothing else, you’ll get a hat out of the deal.” </p>
<p>Sandor grunted non-committedly, it was nice to think that Arya (of all people!) would defend him. But just because she did, didn’t mean that her entire family would welcome him horning in on their activity. Besides, Greyjoy would probably show up anyway. Sandor started to gather up his coat and darts and mumbled to Bronn that he had stuff to do and he’d see him at work on Monday. Bronn raised an eyebrow in return and continued to finish off his beer as Sandor left the bar. </p>
<p>Once home, Sandor stowed everything away, grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator and sat down to try and watch some television, but he just couldn’t relax. Something was spinning in his head; Sansa Stark was spinning in his head. He didn’t understand it, he didn’t know her; hell, he didn’t even know what she looked like. Why was he even thinking about her? Sandor pulled his phone out of his pocket, and before he could change his mind, texted Arya. </p>
<p>
  <b>Hound: tell your sister if she really needs another person, I’m in </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>WB: really? </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Hound: yup. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>WB: I’ll text her, is it okay if I give her your number? She’ll probably want to confirm that I’m not just fucking with her. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Hound: sure </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>WB: are you really sure, because once I tell her, you can’t get out of it. She’ll be relentless. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Hound: what else do I have to do on a Saturday morning besides freeze my balls off in a parade? </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Arya: ya got that right. Later </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Hound: Night. </b>
</p>
<p>Sandor hoped he hadn’t just made a huge mistake.  </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>Monday morning found Sandor wading through his many, many emails, until he saw a familiar address; he moved his mouse to open it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> To: </em> <a href="mailto:sclegane@wintertowncitygov.com"> <em> sclegane@wintertowncitygov.com </em> </a></p>
<p><em> From: </em> <a href="mailto:sansaloveslemoncakes@direwolf.com"> <em> sansaloveslemoncakes@direwolf.com </em> </a></p>
<p>
  <em> Subject: thank you </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Sandor - Arya told me that you volunteered to help us with the balloon; thank you, thank you, thank you! I hope she didn't twist your arm, but I am so very grateful. Arya did give me your cell phone number, but I didn't feel it was right to text you out of the blue. I do need another favor though, what is your head size? I'm making hats for everyone, and since we've never met, I can't even guess how big I need to make it. All you need to do is use a tape measure and measure around your head. Sansa </em>
</p>
<p>Sandor snorted, Bronn was right, at least he would get a hat out of this. Sansa wasn't exactly as he imagined; he thought she'd be more like Arya: rude, crude, unapologetic. But instead, here she was, chirping her courtesies like a little bird. He clicked his mouse to respond.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> To: </em> <a href="mailto:sansaloveslemoncakes@direwolf.com"> <em> sansaloveslemoncakes@direwolf.com </em> </a></p>
<p><em> From: </em> <a href="mailto:sclegane@wintertowncitygov.com"> <em> sclegane@wintertowncitygov.com </em> </a></p>
<p>
  <em> Subject re: thank you </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Sansa - it's more protecting our balloons rather than doing you a favor. I know Arya and I've met your brother Robb; if I left it up to them the balloon would probably float away, they're puny little things. You need at least one big bugger to keep it on the ground, and I can fill that role. Sorry, I don't know my head size, big! But I can measure it when I get home, and don't worry about texting me, Arya asked if it was okay to give you my number if you had any questions, so text away. Sandor </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandor sent off the email and got down to work for the day. There was a thousand little details he'd need to see to if the parade was going to be successful. Now that he'd doled out all the balloons, he had to turn his attention to the vendors. If nothing else he had to make sure that he didn't put Tormund's food stand near Euron's. They didn't need another incident like last year's.</p>
<p>Sandor spent the next couple of hours bent over a street plan, mapping out where each vendor would set up, in the end he was satisfied with the variety; then, with a shake of his head,  he wondered when he’d become an fucking party planner. He was just sitting up to stretch, when his phone dinged to indicate an incoming text </p>
<p>
  <b>Unknown number: Hey Sandor it’s Sansa. I thought it would be better to text you rather than use your official work email. I hope that’s okay. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sandor: Of course, any distraction from working on a vendor plan for the parade is welcome. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sansa: vendor plan? </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sandor: Part of coordinating the day is deciding which vendor is where along the parade route. You would think that would be easy, but there are people that you just need to keep apart.  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sansa: like? </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sandor: well, you can’t put Wildings next to Iron Born or there will be a war right in the middle of the parade. You also can’t put people from Dorn next to people from Lys or there might be an orgy. All this stuff you never think about when you’re just attending a parade. All this stuff I never thought about until now. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sansa: who knew the parade was so fraught with potential conflict. I should let you get back to work. I’m sorry for bothering you. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sandor: Don’t get your feathers in a ruffle, Little Bird, you’re not bothering me, you’re saving me from ripping my hair out. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sansa: Little Bird? </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sandor: oops, sorry. You just remind me of one of those pretty little birds from the summer isles, peeping out your courtesies. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sansa: LOL, I kind of like it. Pretty? How do you know? You’ve never even seen me. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sandor: well I know Arya, and she’s kind of pretty in a tiny, murderous way. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sansa: Ha! I’ll have to tell her that! BTW I don’t look anything like her, I could look like a woods witch for all you know.  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sandor: Well, I think someone would have mentioned that if you did. So I stand by my statement, until I meet you and am proved otherwise. Besides, even if you do look like a woods witch, you’ll be prettier than me. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sansa: I don’t know about that. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sandor: trust me, I’m telling the truth. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sansa: okay, well we’ll have to agree to disagree. I think I’ve taken up enough of your time for today, I’ll let you get back to work. Don’t forget to measure your head tonight and send it to me. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sandor: text me anytime Little Bird! You’re a welcome distraction. </b>
</p>
<p>Sandor sat back and smiled. He wondered what Sansa did look like. Against his better judgement, he googled Sansa’s name on his phone, only to be flooded with images of her from when she still lived in the north. The Stark’s were the closest thing to royalty that existed here, and all the members of the family were involved in local charities and activities. Pictures of Sansa helping at a food drive and a recycling event and her college graduation confirmed that she was no woods witch! She was right, she looked nothing like Arya: tall, long red hair, big blue eyes. </p>
<p>Until that moment, Sandor didn’t think he had a ‘type’ but he was wrong, he did, and he was looking at it right now on his phone screen. He supposed it was a good thing that she lived in King’s Landing, or he’d spend all his time staring at her like a green boy. Hell, marching in a parade with her for 3 hours was going to be torture. Volunteering might have been a BIG mistake!. </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>
  <b>Two weeks before the parade</b>
</p>
<p>“So Hound, I hear you’ve been chatting up my sister” </p>
<p>Sandor spit his beer back into his glass and looked at Arya askance. They hadn’t really talked, just texted throughout the day, it wasn’t any big deal, no matter how warm it made Sandor feel. “how did you hear that? And we’re not talking, we’re just texting. It’s no big deal” </p>
<p>Arya smirked at him “it may not be any big deal to you, but Sansa has asked me a million questions about you. How tall are you, what kind of things do you like to do, do you have a pet; weird things. What do you two talk about that would make her want to know about your pet situation?” </p>
<p>“She told me about Lady, and how much she misses her; I guess she works too many hours to be able to have a pet down there. We just talk about stuff. Now shut up and throw the damn dart” </p>
<p>Arya laughed and lined up her shot, hitting the bullseye, as normal “I dunno Sandor, I think she may have a crush on you” </p>
<p>Sandor pondered what Arya had said. He and Sansa had fallen into a routine of texting each other during the day, he didn’t know how it had happened, but now he looked forward to it each day. He never knew where their conversation was going to go, but he loved learning more about her. Her life, her work, nothing was too mundane. He was concerned though, that when she actually met him, this whole ‘friendship’ or whatever they called it, was going to go away. As soon as she saw him, she wouldn’t be interested in continuing their connection. </p>
<p>He hated himself for asking, it was so pathetic “did you tell her about my scars?” </p>
<p>“I didn’t have to, she already knew about them. I think she might have googled you” </p>
<p>Sandor blushed remembering his own google adventure “so she asked about them?’” </p>
<p>“she asked if they still hurt, that’s all. I told her no, since you never said they did” </p>
<p>“they don’t, I actually don’t feel anything there. It’s all dead nerve endings. Sooo, she wasn’t disgusted by them?” </p>
<p>Arya cocked her head and looked at Sandor quizzically “no like I said before,  she’s seen worse than you” </p>
<p>Tired of listening, Bronn butt in “listen if you two girls are done braiding each other’s hair, I’d like to get this game finished. I’m dangerously close to finally beating your ass and I personally don’t care who has a crush on who, since no one seems to have a crush on me” with that he threw his dart and secured his first win. “HA, finally. Drinks on you short stuff” </p>
<p>Arya glared at him. “don’t let it go to your head, you’ll lose again next week” </p>
<p>“maybe, or maybe you and Sandor will talk about make-up and fashion, and you’ll get distracted again. Maybe I need to team up with Gendry, so you two can gossip in peace; what do you say Bull?” </p>
<p>Gendry glanced at Arya “Nah, even distracted she can usually kick your ass, I’ll stick with her” </p>
<p>Bronn shook his head “whatever, I think I’ll celebrate with scotch tonight. Belly on up to the bar Arya and get me two fingers of Balvenie. Hound, what do you want? You didn’t really contribute to the win, but you did distract the wolfbitch enough so I could win, so I guess you’ve earned a drink” </p>
<p>Sandor chuckled and shook his head “nah, I have to get home anyway. Later” </p>
<p>Arya narrowed her eyes “more texting?” </p>
<p>Sandor swung around and looked at her “I hadn’t planned to” </p>
<p>“Maybe you should” she quipped </p>
<p>“yea?” </p>
<p>“yea, I think Sansa would like to hear how you did tonight” </p>
<p>“maybe I will” and with that he left the bar.  </p>
<p>***** </p>
<p>
  <b>Sandor: Hey Little Bird </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>LB: Hey Sandor. How’d you do tonight? </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sandor: we won, but no thanks to me, it was all Bronn </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>LB: well a win is a win </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sandor: tell your sister that </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>LB: I finished your hat; I hope you like it </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sandor: I’m sure I will, I’ve never had anything homemade before. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>LB: really? Maybe if you like the hat, we’ll have to do something about that. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sandor: Don’t make that promise until you see me, it’ll take a lot of wool to make anything for me. I’m a big fucker. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>LB: I guess we’ll have to see. Goodnight Sandor </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sandor: sleep well, Little Bird. </b>
</p>
<p>*****</p>
<p> </p>
<p><b>One week before the parade</b> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> To: undisclosed mailing list  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> From: sclegane@wintertowncitygov.com  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Subject: meeting location  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> The parade is just one week away. Each balloon has a specific starting point for the parade, and you will need to meet there. Instructors will be on-site to “train” you for the parade, so please arrive 30 minutes before your “step-off” time (the time listed next to your balloon is the step off time). If there are any issues with your group, such as you don’t have enough handlers, please email me ASAP so we can resolve the problem before the parade.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> corner of 1st and Aegon Streets – 8:30 dragon balloon, 8:45 superman balloon, 9:00 bear balloon, 9:15 Wun Wun balloon, 9:30 wolf balloon.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Corner of 1st and George Streets – 9:45 stag balloon, 10:00 lion balloon, 10:15 wonder woman balloon, 10:30 kraken balloon, 10:45 kermit the frog balloon  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Thank you again for volunteering for this annual event  </em>
</p>
<p><em> Sandor Clegane </em> </p>
<p>***** </p>
<p>
  <b>LB: hey Sandor, I just got your email! </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sandor: so your balloon is between wun wun and the stag, are you okay with that? </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>LB: as long as there are no Baratheon’s escorting the stag balloon, I’m okay! </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sandor: like they’d volunteer to do anything! </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sandor: when are you getting home? </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>LB: late Wednesday night, then the whole family is going to my Tully relatives early Thursday morning and not getting back until Friday. I hope I can get enough sleep before the parade. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>LB: I can’t wait to meet you in person on Saturday morning. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sandor: I hope you won’t be disappointed </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>LB: I know I won’t be. Ugh, I have to go, Cersei is calling me, she probably wants me to walk her dog (at least I like the dog!). Talk to you later! </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sandor: have a good day Little Bird. </b>
</p>
<p>**** </p>
<p><b>Day of the parade</b> </p>
<p>Sansa was standing on the corner of 1st and Aemon Streets sipping her coffee by 8:00. She was too excited at the prospect of actually meeting Sandor to wait around for the rest of her relatives. He had been so nice to her over the past six weeks, Sansa was sure they were going to be fast friends; or something more, at least she hoped so. First Men's Day had been fun, it was great to see all her relatives, especially her Grandpa Hoster and Great Uncle Blackfish, but this was what she was really looking forward to. She checked her watch again; 8:15, ugh, she’d be a popsicle by the time everyone else got there. Suddenly she heard her name being called and she whirled around to see Arya and Gendry making their way towards her. </p>
<p>“Sans, why’d you leave so early? We’re not supposed to be here until 8:45?” </p>
<p>“Oh, I just wanted to get out of the house and walk around before all the activity.” </p>
<p>Arya narrowed her eyes “any other reason?” </p>
<p>“no” </p>
<p>“liar, I can read you like a book. What’s going on?” </p>
<p>Sansa flushed “I just was kind of hoping that I’d get to talk to Sandor without the rest of you standing around watching. Is that so wrong? We’ve been texting for a month and I feel like I really know him, so I’m really excited to actually get to see him and talk to him in person.” </p>
<p>Arya’s eyes softened “yea okay, I get it” then her eyes moved off Sansa’s face to something behind her “well you almost got your wish” </p>
<p>Sansa turned around to see a large, handsome, scarred man walking towards her, with a shy smile on his face. Her face broke into a huge grin and she ran towards him “Sandor!” reaching him, she wrapped her arms around his waist, buried her face in his chest and squeezed. </p>
<p>Sandor looked at Arya in confusion (and hope), only to have her raise an eyebrow and look back at him pointedly and gesture towards Sansa. Understanding her meaning, Sandor wrapped his arms around Sansa, kissed the top of her head and responded “Little Bird, it is so good to finally see you” </p>
<p>***** </p>
<p><b>5 years later</b> </p>
<p>“no” </p>
<p>“what do you mean, no?” </p>
<p>“I mean no. There is no way you’re marching in the parade today” </p>
<p>“aw, c’mon Sandor, it’s the 5th anniversary of our first date. How else would we possibly celebrate?” </p>
<p>“First of all, marching in the parade was not our first date, when I took you out to dinner the following night THAT was our first date. Secondly; you’re 8 1/2 months pregnant, suppose you go into labor? Suppose your water breaks? Do you really want our first child to be born in the middle of Aemon Street?” </p>
<p>Sansa laughed “you worry too much; walking is supposed to be good for pregnant women; besides you need a 12th person” </p>
<p>Sandor sighed “but wrangling a huge wolf balloon down the street is NOT good for a pregnant woman; and since I knew you’d try that argument, I convinced Bronn to help us this year. So there, we have enough people” </p>
<p>Sansa laughed again, she knew there was no way that Sandor was going to be okay with her being in the parade this year, but it was fun to get him all riled up about it anyway.  She rolled up onto her toes and pressed a kiss onto his cheek, he really was the most protective husband. </p>
<p>Their romance had been a whirlwind from the moment they met in person 5 years before. They’d talked exclusively to each other the entire length of the parade, then later at the Pub. By the time Sansa had herded her drunk relatives out of the bar, Sandor had asked her out for the following evening. They’d had a wonderful date, and when he kissed her goodnight, Sansa knew she was well on her way to falling in love with him. </p>
<p>The next three months comprised of long phone conversations, hours of texting, facetime on the weekend and longing on both sides. When Sansa came home for Sevenmas they spent as much time together as they could, both knew that what they had was special, it was forever. </p>
<p>To no one's surprise, Sandor asked her to move in with him when her internship ended in February, she enthusiastically agreed. From there it was only a matter of time before Sandor proposed and they got married in front of the weirwood tree at Winterfell. Now their first child would be arriving in less than a month. </p>
<p>Sansa rolled up on her toes and kissed Sandor one more time before she moved onto the sidewalk, out of the way of the balloon escorts. She fondly looked at the group escorting what she now considered 'their' wolf balloon. For the past five years the Starks had proudly marched in the parade. Different members had come and gone; her Dad and Uncle Benjen bowing out last year, complaining about their sore feet and cold asses. They'd been replaced by Robb's new wife Talisa and Rickon's girlfriend Shireen. But this would be the first year that Sansan, as the family called them, didn't march together. </p>
<p>Although she had made a good show of it, Sansa was relieved she wasn't marching; her back was killing her, and the baby had taken up permanent residence on her bladder. Sansa was happy to be sitting with her parents by the reviewing stand, watching the balloons, bands and floats go by; who knew, maybe next year she could strap the baby on her back and the three of them could start a new tradition. Sansa smiled and imagined her future: living in the north, married to Sandor, raising a family, and hopefully wrangling a wolf balloon down the street once a year.<br/><br/></p>
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